


Back to the Fork in the Road

by Albione



Series: Traviamento [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst, M/M, Meeting Again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:31:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albione/pseuds/Albione
Summary: Oliver meets Elio again.





	Back to the Fork in the Road

**Author's Note:**

> After writing Traviamento, I decided to write other scenes on how they got to a happy end. Small instants during the long way back.

Oliver placed the pile of papers into his briefcase and left his office.   
“See you tomorrow Mrs Watling!” The lady smiled at him as he almost ran down the corridor and out onto the campus.  
The early October weather was still mild and students sat in small groups on the grass, as Oliver walked past many turned to look at the handsome young professor that had just started at the faculty.  
He ignored all the stares and smiles, he just wanted to get back to his small flat, the refuge after a year of hell.

As soon as he took off his shoes he felt like a drink, but stopped himself. He had not touched a drop of alcohol since the divorce had gone through; he wasn't going to start now.  
The flat was small, his size filled it, the books were packed in tight, but it was his flat, a place to start again. The problem was that he just did not feel like starting anything. 

He picked up the letter that had arrived that morning, the Italian postmark had caught him unawares.

He had kept contact with Pro during the years, holiday greetings, a card or the occasional phone call, but the elephant in the room had always been avoided.

“Elio, Elio, Elio” he could hear the whispered tone of voice, the urgency and desperation.   
He wondered why that hurt him more than when Rachel threw the ashtray at him and broke his cheekbone; but the wounds of the soul cannot mend.  
He read the letter, the usual chatter, new ideas being thrown around, academic gossip and Elio.

Elio, just the seeing those four letters one after the other in the middle of the scribbled page took all his breath away.

“Elio is thinking of studying composition or a PHD and wandering aimlessly around trying to find a place he likes. He will be visiting Yale at the end of October”  
He wondered if Pro was warning him to keep away or hoping they would meet. He must have heard of the messy divorce through the grapevine.

Elio walking through the campus, being able to see him after five years. He wondered how he looked like, the boyish features would have hardened into something more mature. Had he put on a bit of weight?   
He put the letter down; there was no way he would have the courage to approach Elio after what he said to him the last time they spoke.  
That last phone call burned him with shame, he would never forgive himself for asking “Do you mind?” What was he hoping for? Salvation? Absolution?

The wind had a sharp edge to it even if it was a sunny day; Elio dug his fists deeper into his coat pockets. He really did not want to be here, but he had decided that the past would not influence his decisions. Of course being in two different continents had made things easier.

His father had told him that Oliver had a tenure at Yale just before he left for the states. He wondered if he had known before he booked his flight that Oliver would be here?  
He hated that he was unconsciously looking for tall blond man; each time he noticed one his heart would wobble.  
“He is married, would not recognise me if he saw me; he has forgotten everything, and I wish I could do the same!”  
He had collected all the information he needed and was walking back to the hired car, soon he would leave this place and return to Europe.

“Elio?” It was the tone that stopped him in his tracks; he knew the voice before his memory recognised it. He did not have the courage to turn, as the wife of Lot he would be transformed into a statue of salt.  
“Elio” His response was automatic, and he hated himself for it.

Oliver sensed Elio, he knew he had to turn and as he did, he saw him. How could he ever doubt recognising him? The long determined stride, the hunched shoulders, the way the torso swaed, it was him. Without thinking he called out “Elio!” 

“Elio”   
“Elio, Elio, Elio…. Oliver” The room in darkness, the bodies entwined, breathing into each other’s mouth, giving each other their names since they had already given everything else. 

They stood looking at each other, neither had the courage to start a conversation they were both afraid of where it could go.  
“Your father had told me you would be visiting sometime in the fall; I am glad I saw you, it would have been a pity to miss you!”  
Oliver sounded so sincere, Elio glanced up and dared to look at the man who had infested his dreams for years; he seemed sincere, his blue eyes had lost the vitality he remembered from that summer, but the rest had not changed.  
He nodded “I just popped in to collect some information on courses and look around. Not staying long…”  
“Of course…”  
They stood not quite sure what to do, both wanted to stay and breath in the other but also to run away as far as possible, away from a pain that the years had never lessened.  
Oliver made a small gesture towards an empty bench. They both moved towards it as being pulled by a personal gravity.

It was cold, they were careful not to touch, each hunched against the wind and their feelings; neither wanted to start talking, afraid of opening a dam that had been carefully monitored for the past few years.

“Are you going to study here?” Oliver kept any trace of hope at bay, not sure for the answer he was hoping for.  
“Probably not, theory is the focus, and I am a bit tired of theories.”

Oliver nodded. “I just wanted to say that I am sorry, so sorry how things went and losing contact with you.”  
Elio’s lips twisted slightly “There is nothing to be sorry for, is there? You made the decision that was right for you, we never promised anything. And why keep in contact with a kid? A summer romance has a use before date, I wasn't your first, you were not my last.”  
The wind felt much more cold.

For years Oliver had been thinking of paradise, if it was near the pool, was it Bergamo? Just anywhere in Northern Italy; but he had always known, it was anywhere near Elio. The campus felt as a corner of paradise, even if the distance between them was so wide and deep.

“You were never a summer romance Elio, just because I am a coward don’t think less of what happened between us.”  
Elio stood up abruptly and turned away.  
“Whatever. Glad to see you are ok, will tell dad that I saw you. All the best Oliver!”  
As he walked away Elio thought he heard “Cor Cordium” whispering in the wind.  
He could not bear to turn to look at the man that was always there, a ghost that none could live up to. 

Oliver looked at Elio walking away, he needed to memorise this last time.   
The leaves were falling all around him; gold and red in a dying fall light. It seemed so fitting, so final. Such a terrible beauty.


End file.
